The L-Space Web: Filks

Ghost Cider In The Sky


From: MegaMole
Newsgroups: alt.fan.pratchett
Subject: [I] Again, blame #afp
Date: Wed, 26 Apr 2000 22:39:24 +0100

Especially Joy's rhapsodising about scumble.

Apples (and rat) lead to fermentation, fermentation leads to scumble, scumble leads to hangover, hangover leads to bad trip, bad trip leads to the Dark Side.

Warned have you been.

"Ghost Cider In The Sky"
To the obvious tune.

A stranger plodded to the pub one dark West Country day,
He leaned his elbows on the bar as his money he did pay,
He ordered that night's special as he sat down nice and slow,
And the barmaid poured it from the tap in a brown and cloudy flow,
Hughee-hee-hee, Hughee-hee-ho,
Ghost cider in the sky...

The apple fumes were heady and the pint glass made of steel;
The reg'lars crowded round him and their hot breath he could feel
A bolt of fear went through him as he raised the glass up high,
For he saw the people crowdin' round and he heard their mournful cry
Hughee-hee-hee, Hughee-hee-ho,
Ghost cider in the sky...

Their faces red, their eyes were blurred, their shirts all stained with beer;
They whispered to each other in the smoky atmosphere,
"The grockle who last passed this Test lies ten years in his grave;
Whatever else this stranger is, he certainly is brave..."
Hughee-hee-hee, Hughee-hee-ho,
Ghost cider in the sky...

As he gulped his tankard to the dregs, he heard a voice ring shrill,
"If you want to save your head from hell a'drinkin' from our still
Then, stranger, make that your last one or with us you will stay,
A-tryin' to catch the rats to brew our pint the country way..."
Hughee-hee-hee, Hughee-hee-ho,
Ghost cider in the sky...

He woke up in the sheep dip of a strange and smelly farm,
His head rang like a bell tower with a jammed-on fire alarm;
As he cleaned the cowpats off his boots he painfully arose,
To see an empty scrumpy vat strewn with his brand new clothes...
Hughee-hee-hee, Hughee-hee-ho,
Ghost cider in the sky...
Ghost cider in the sky...


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